A Pirate's Life for Me
by Kaede-tama
Summary: Matthew almost dies when his village is burned down by pirates. Luckily, Alfred saves him. Unluckily, he is taken captive and forced to work as a cabin boy. And even worse, half of the crew is lusting after him. MultiplexCanada
1. Chapter 1

**A Pirate's Life for Me  
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**Chapter 1**

Matthew never expected to wake up to the awful smell of something burning. And upon rubbing his eyes and focusing his vision, he found out that what was on fire was his bedroom.

"Mother!" he shouted, jumping out of bed. He skirted around the flames that had engulfed the entire left side of his room, barreling through the door. So much damage had been done to their home already: the living room was a mass of fire, the roof in the kitchen starting to collapse, and his mother's bedroom door...was opened.

Matthew ran across the hallway and into the room, eyes frantically searching for a familiar blond head. A few seconds later, he finally caught sight of his mother, sprawled on the floor, the fire lapping dangerously close to her arm.

Instinctively, Matthew reached out to her, but then someone's arms were wrapped around his waist and he was forcibly dragged from the room. "Let me go!" he shrieked, struggling. His attacker was clearly stronger, though, and Matthew went limp, watching helplessly as he was carried out of the burning house and outside.

"Why didn't you get out?" He was dropped on the ground none-too-gently. Blue eyes peered down at him. "You could've gotten killed. But I saved you, so it's okay!"

Matthew sat up, fully intending to go back to his papa and drag him out to safety. But the roof was already caving in, and Matthew watched with teary eyes as the house crumbled.

"Hey." His blue-eyed savior put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay? What's your name? I'm sorry about your house, by the way, but it was Iggy's decision to go to pillage this village, so you can't blame me. If I didn't follow Captain's orders, he'd, like, flog me, you know? You're not mad at me, right?"

Matthew stared up at him, bewildered. "W-Who are you?" he demanded. He roughly swiped the tears off his cheeks and glared.

"Alfred Jones, lookout of the HMS Vulture." Alfred made a big show of bowing, then straightened. He was grinning, a hand casually on the hilt of a scabbard that hung loosely around his waist. "What's your name?"

"None of your business!" Matthew squeaked.

"Oi! Jones!" a voice barked out from behind them. "How many times have I told not to fraternize with these bloody villagers?" An irate-looking blond appeared behind Alfred, his fancy scarlet overcoat swishing in the wind. "Oh." The man stopped upon seeing Matthew and smirked. "What do we have here?"

"He's mine, Iggy," Alfred said, pouting. "I saved him."

"It's Arthur, not Artie or Iggy or Iggypop or whatever variation you blasted American have for my name," Arthur retorted. His eyes softened when he glanced at Matthew. "And I don't care if you saved him. Get him on the ship." The smirk was starting to turn predatory.

Alfred helped Matthew to his feet. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from his eyebrows," he whispered to the slightly shorter blond. He winked. "And the least you can do in return is tell me your name."

"Matthew," Matthew bit out. He crossed his arms and pressed his lips together, eyes mournful as he saw that the whole village was in ruins. And his mother...

He was led to the pier, where a huge ship was docked. A flag waved proudly in the air, black with a white skull and crossbones in the center. Matthew gulped.

"On you go!" Alfred chirped, sounding a little too enthusiastic. He helped Matthew walk across the platform onto the ship.

"Eyes up," Arthur ordered as he walked past them.

Alfred sheepishly averted his gaze from Matthew's backside. "Not like _you_ weren't looking," he mumbled.

Arthur ignored him and started explaining the ship rules to Matthew, whose eyes progressively grew wider and wider as the list went on. Arthur was about halfway through - "I am the Captain and everything I say goes." - when a door opened a several men filed out.

"Can we leave yet, Artie?" one of them complained. He had platinum-colored hair and red eyes that sent shivers down Matthew's spine. "Oh, what do we have here?"

"Listen up," Arthur commanded loudly. Once he had everyone's attention, he continued, "This is Matthew. From now on, he will be our cabin boy."

There was a wolf-whistle. One glare from Arthur shut that person up. "Now, each of you step forward and state your name and position."

"I'll go first." A man with wavy blond hair, just like Matthew's except longer, stepped forward. "_Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy_. I am the scholar, which means I do all the translations and provide information when needed."

"_Enchanté_," Matthew mumbled, the French flowing easily from his lips.

Francis looked delighted, but the red-eyed man from earlier shoved him aside. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, the most awesome person you will ever meet," he declared. "I'm the gunner. I operate all the cannons." He grinned.

"I am Ludwig Beilschmidt," said a tall blond. "Unfortunately, I am Gilbert's brother. I'm the navigator."

"Ve! I'm Feliciano Vargas and I cook pasta for everyone!" Feliciano smiled happily, clapping his hands. He gestured to another male beside him. "This is my brother, Lovino. He's the first mate!"

"I can introduce myself, _idiota_!" Lovino growled. Before he could jump on his brother, he was restrained by a brunet.

"My name's Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" he said cheerfully. "I'm the doctor, so if you ever hurt yourself, don't be afraid to come to - Ow, that hurt, Lovi!"

Deciding this was taking too long, Arthur took matters into his own hands. "That's Lars van Rijn, the helmsman. I presume Alfred already told you that he is the lookout, and I'm the captain."

Matthew nodded jerkily. "A-Are you gonna push me overboard?" he asked fearfully. To his defense, he'd heard many stories about pirates and none of them were good.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Didn't I tell you that you were going to be a cabin boy?" he drawled. "If we push you overboard, we'll have no one to scrub the decks."

"Scrub the...decks?" Matthew echoed. He backed up, hoping to be able to flee while he could, but Alfred was blocking his path. "But-"

"No buts," Arthur interrupted. "Now, Lovino," he smirked again, fingering the feather plume drooping from his hat, "take Matthew to a room and find him the proper uniform to wear."

Matthew's eyes widened. Lovino grabbed his arm and wasted no time in heading for the cabins.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred said as they watched Matthew disappear. "Don't we only have one uniform?"

Arthur nodded.

"And isn't that uniform tailored for a cabin girl, not a boy?" Gilbert asked.

"Yes." Arthur grinned, green eyes glinting deviously. "But Matthew doesn't need to know that."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I _really_ need to stop writing multi-chaptered fics while I have multiple other ones going already.

But I couldn't help it with this one. T-T

Pairings that will appear throughout this fic: GerIta, Spamano, FrUk, USCan, Franada, PruCan, NethCan... Eventually, Canada will end up with someone. Still not sure who that will be, but probably America...

See you on the next chapter~!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"W-What is that?" Matthew almost shrieked when he saw the "uniform" that he was supposed to wear. "No! That's for a girl!" He frantically searched for a way out, but Lovino was standing right in front of the door.

The short-tempered Italian scowled. "You have no choice," he said. He tossed the uniform to the other boy, a smirk tugging at his lips. His inner sadist was showing. "You have to wear it or Arthur'll flog you."

Matthew's face went red. He stared down at the clothing in his hands, biting his lip. "A-All right," he relented quietly. "But can you please leave the room? I'm going to change..."

Lovino quirked an eyebrow, but shrugged. "As long as you put it on." Turning around, he missed the happy glint that passed through Matthew's indigo eyes. The Italian was a little suspicious, but they were already setting sail again, so Matthew couldn't possibly escape. Besides, he could hear that bastard Antonio calling his name...

The door was shut rather loudly. Matthew exhaled a long breath, loosening his fingers and letting the dress fall. It looked unused, its color a dilute white. There was a black corset that went with it, which was held together tightly by criss-crossing lace at the front. Pressing it against himself, he realized that it would stop just a little above his knees.

He was definitely not wearing this.

Matthew let the dress fall back onto his bed - which was so tiny and cramped that he doubted it could be called a bed. He stepped over the matching boots and padded over to the door. He cracked it open about an inch wide and peered out.

There were three of them at the helm of the ship - Francis, Antonio, and Lovino - a good fifteen feet away from where Matthew was. The other pirates were nowhere to be seen. The ship was rather large, and Matthew figured that no one would notice him if he sneaked around the back.

So he did just that. He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, making sure the three men up front didn't notice him. He turned right, and then his eyes widened when he realized that the ship was already moving. Granted, Matthew was a great swimmer, but...

He reached the side of the boat, gripping the railing tightly. The ship was steadily getting farther and farther away from his village... So he did the only thing he could do.

He reached down and pulled off his boots; they would just slow him down. He was start to pull himself over the railing when he heard someone shout, "Hey, someone stop him!"

Thanks for the encouragement, Gilbert.

Matthew swung his legs over the rail a little too fast, and he found himself slipping off. He had enough time to suck in a breath before he hit the water.

It was freezing cold. Matthew forced his eyes open, kicking his legs, swimming upwards. He broke through the surface just in time to hear another splash. Someone had jumped in after him.

Matthew ignored the way his legs were starting to feel numb and began swimming towards land. Behind him, he could hear the distinct noise of someone following, but ignored it and kept going.

He didn't know how much time passed that he was in the water. He was starting to feel the sand underneath his feet again when he was grabbed roughly from behind. He let out a cry of surprise, which caused water to rush into his mouth.

Was this person trying to _kill _him?

Matthew caught sight of fair blond hair and blue eyes just before he passed out.

**. . .**

"You almost drowned him," Gilbert said accusingly.

Alfred, who pushed back dripping strands of blond hair, rolled his eyes. "He's still alive," he retorted. Though looking down at the male underneath him made him falter.

"I hate you," Matthew managed between harsh breaths. His eyes narrowed into slits, glaring daggers at his "savior." "I wish you drowned."

Alfred smirked. "I saved you." He tapped the other's nose playfully. "Don't I get a thank you kiss?" He leaned down, half-serious, to peck the blond on the cheeks, but his face was pushed away by a damp hand.

"For the Queen's sake, don't you think of anything other than that?" Another hand smacked his head. Alfred looked up to see that it was Arthur. "Get on the rowboat, the three of you. Hurry up, before I change my mind and maroon you lot here."

"You wouldn't do that, Iggy!" Alfred smiled cheerfully.

Arthur flashed him a look that said, "Why don't you find out?"

Gathering his last bits of strength, Matthew shoved Alfred off of him. The pirate landed on his side with a pained grunt, and Matthew took the opportunity to scramble to his feet and start running. Unfortunately, he didn't get very far.

"You can't run away from us," an amused voice chuckled into his ear. It sent shivers down his spine. Gilbert snickered, gripping his midsection tighter as he dragged him back to the other two.

"He has some fight left in him." Arthur smirked, momentarily forgetting Alfred, who was complaining.

Matthew would have stuck up his middle finger*, but he was wet and freezing and Gilbert had already dropped him into the rowboat. He tried to scoot as far as possible from the three pirates that also climbed on, but it was in vain. The rowboat was rather small.

Arthur handed the oars to Gilbert. "Get us to the ship," he ordered.

"Aye, Captain." Gilbert rolled his ruby red eyes when Arthur looked away. Nevertheless, he started rowing.

"Are you cold, Mattie?" Unfortunately, it was Alfred who was closest to him.

Matthew pressed his lips together in a tight line. He refused to answer partly because he wasn't going talk to one of the people who burned down his village, and partly because if he opened his mouth, his teeth would start chattering again.

"Here." Alfred didn't mind the lack of a response. The pirate shifted closer and slipped off his navy blue overcoat. Then he draped it over Matthew's shoulders with a stupidly bright grin. "Is that better?"

The overcoat was heavy, making his shoulders sag a little. But it was ridiculously warm, so Matthew found himself pulling the coat closer to himself. Alfred noticed this and his grin became even wider.

Arthur, who was watching the little display in front of him, crossed his arms and glared murderously. He kicked Alfred's leg. "Stop fraternizing with him lest you want to be hanged by the gibbet, you scrappy swine."

Alfred didn't stop smiling. "Your inner pirate is showing," he told the captain.

"I _am _a pirate, you scurvy-infested-" Arthur cut himself off short with a frustrated sigh.

Alfred was _still_ grinning.

Meanwhile, Matthew mourned silently, constantly wondering why he was the one that got stuck with these ungodly men.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Finally, an update~

*Did they stick their middle fingers back at this time period? I don't know. :\


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Matthew was starting to regret attempting to escape.

For the umpteenth time that day, he could feel Gilbert's eyes practically burning holes into the back of his head. After Arthur deemed Lovino unfit to watch over Matthew, Gilbert had been chosen as his next "watcher." Quite frankly, Matthew preferred Lovino over the albino; at least Lovino didn't stare at him this much...

For the first time, Matthew actually wished Alfred was there to break the creepy atmosphere.

"What are you looking at?" he finally asked, whirling around and dropping the mop he'd been holding. He tried to give the fiercest glare he could muster, but he could feel his resolve slowly melting away. After all, he was now wearing that accursed "uniform..."

"You," was Gilbert's ever-so-smart reply.

Matthew pressed his lips together and turned back around. He decided that Gilbert wasn't worth a response. He picked the mop back up, sloshed it none-too-gently into a bucket of water, and resumed his cleaning.

He'd lost sight of land a while ago. But he'd overheard Arthur and Lovino discussing something about arriving on another island sometime soon, so he supposed that not all hope was lost...

"Stop staring!" he cried in frustration, turning around again to glare at Gilbert.

The pirate flashed him a smirk. "I can't help it. Your backside just happens to be facing me, you know?"

"Actually, my backside is down here," Matthew retorted. "From where you're standing, you'd be looking at my back. However, by some God-given miracle, your eyes gravitate down to ogle my butt." Sarcasm dripped heavily from his words. His mother had had a sharp tongue - he was glad he inherited that from her.

Gilbert put his hands up, frowning slightly. "All right, calm down." A lazy smile wormed itself into his face. "Although I do like them feisty."

By that point, any qualms Matthew had about injuring this man was dissolved. He raised the mop over his head and charged towards the self-proclaimed Prussian, eyes wild. He knew he must have been a scary sight: a boy in a skimpy outfit, enraged, brandishing a mop with murderous intent.

Good. He hoped he looked scary.

"_Mathieu_, what are you doing, pray tell?" A thickly accented voice made Matthew stop in his tracks. The suddenness of the action almost made him pitch forward, and he caught himself just in time.

It took a few moments for him to remember the man's name. "Francis," he greeted evenly. He lowered the mop, but never loosened his hold on it. What? He was just taking safety precautions.

Francis clicked his tongue, walking up to him. Before Matthew could protest, he gently eased the mop from the boy's fingers. "This wild, disheveled look does not suit you, _mon chou_," he cooed. "You are more of the sweet and innocent type, oui?"

"Non," Matthew deadpanned.

Francis's eyes lit up in joy. "_Vous parlez le français?_" He sounded delighted. Behind him, Gilbert snorted and muttered, "Bastard" before Matthew heard him walk off.

One down, another to go.

"_Je parle le français maintenant, n'est ce pas?_" he questioned, the French words rolling smoothly from his tongue. "Now, if I may, I still have half of the deck to scrub." He took his mop back, picking up his bucket full of water, and walked deliberately to the other side of the ship. He dropped the bucket with a sigh, uncaring of the way water sloshed out.

He muttered angry insults under his breath as he mopped. He noticed that he'd been feeling uncharacteristically sour for the whole day, but he supposed that his anger was justified. After all, he had been taken captive by a crew of pirates.

Soaking the mop with water, he began to wash the deck. Not even a minute passed before someone else found him.

"Hey, Mattie!" He was hugged suddenly from behind, Alfred's arms tight around him. He tried to ignore how warm the one-sided embrace felt.

They really wouldn't leave him alone, would they? But Alfred had saved him, his intentions seemed to be sincere, and...the attention was a little nice. Growing up, Matthew was always a little too boring. He'd always been fully aware of that fact. Not a lot of people took the time to talk to him. He didn't mind too much; being alone was something he was accustomed to.

So instead of pushing the loud pirate away, Matthew awkwardly patted his arm. "Hi, Alfred." His voice was soft and a little strained.

He could feel Alfred smiling against his cheek. Wait, when did he get so close? "You can call me Al," the slightly taller blond said, not relinquishing his hold around Matthew's waist. "Everyone does. Well, except Iggy. But you know how he is."

Matthew wanted to say, "No, I don't, because I've only been on this forsaken ship for three days as your prisoner, remember?" But he was too polite to go that far - curse his mannerisms - so he just nodded in agreement. "Okay, Al..." He trailed off, uncertain. When was Alfred going to let go?

However, Alfred didn't make a move to change their position. He stayed, seemingly content with latching onto Matthew forever.

Forever? Matthew shuddered.

"Um, I have to clean," he spoke up a few moments later, deciding that Alfred was being too weird.

"Oh, right!" Alfred laughed sheepishly as he finally withdrew his arms from the other blond. "Well, I'll see you later, Mattie..."

Matthew nodded. He didn't dare turn around and make eye contact, lest Alfred should see that embarrassed blush across his cheeks. "You too," he mumbled.

Turned around, he didn't see the longing look on Alfred's face.

. . .

"I think," Francis began in that dramatic voice that suggested he was up to something, "they like each other."

Gilbert scoffed.

The two pirates were still standing in the spot that Matthew had left them. Of course, the (cute) blond hadn't walked away very far, and Gilbert was sure that everyone had heard Alfred's loud greeting.

"More like Alfred's obsessed with something again, and Matthew happens to be his victim," he grouched. "Besides, I don't think they'd be a good couple."

Francis arched an eyebrow. "Ah, Gilbert, are you jealous?" he asked, a little too bluntly. Being a self-proclaimed master of love, he knew the signs of jealousy, and his friend was showing quite a few.

"Jealous?" Gilbert laughed. "I'm too awesome to feel like that." Though his eyes did flicker back to Matthew and Alfred again...

"Really, now?" Francis said with a small grin. "Then you wouldn't mind if I say that Alfred and _Mathieu_ look cute together...?

A second later, Gilbert punched his arm.

"You are jealous!" Francis said jovially, warding off more attacks from his friend. "Don't fret, Gilbert, it's nothing to be ashamed of! _Matthieu_ is quite attractive."

For that, Gilbert punched his arm again. "Just shut up," he muttered sourly.

In the end, Matthew would be his.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Please don't hurt me for the late update? And yes, Gilbert is jelly. Other characters will be making their "interactions" with Canada soon! 8D

_Translations:_

_Mathieu - _"Matthew" in French._  
><em>

_Mon chou - _"My cabbage" in French. It's an endearment. ^^_  
><em>

_Vous parlez le français? - _"You speak French?" in...French. _  
><em>

_Je parle le français maintenant, n'est ce pas?_ - "I'm speaking French right now, right?" in French as well.

Note: I'm unsure on these translations. I asked my brother, since he's been taking French for the past year or so. Please correct me if there's a mistake!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Alfred hadn't meant to sneak into Matthew's room - really, he hadn't! The others(mainly Lars and Gilbert, the latter of which Alfred was sure hated him) had gotten bored and started exchanging ghost stories; apparently, they were all getting a kick out of watching Matthew busying around the ship, constantly flustered and endearingly angry. So when Matthew finally finished, the blond threw down his mop and said "I'm going to sleep, okay?" before promptly retreating to his cabin. Alfred would like to punch his crew mates for staring at Matthew's behind, but:

1) He would probably be shoved over the rail of the ship.

2) Matthew would see how ungentlemanly he was and then go fall in love with Arthur or something.

Arthur and Matthew.

Oh.

Oh _god._

Anyways, Alfred and ghost stories did not bode well. As a young child, he was mercilessly teased by tormentors. In his fourth year of school, other kids started popping out of doors, windows, and desks, screaming "Boo!"

Of course, Alfred would proceed to freeze. His lower lip would tremble and his eyes would water and then he'd cry.

_But look who has it better now,_ he thought smugly as he went below deck. His crew mates were only on their third story, but they were progressively getting drunk with rum. _I'm going on adventures everyday, fighting things worse than those silly ghost stories, while you're stuck on boring land, doing boring chores!_

Plus, he had a wicked blade. Ah, the perks of being a pirate.

"Matt?" He opened the door a crack, wincing at the way the wood creaked. When there was no response, he dared open it further. "You still awake?"

There was a lantern hanging conveniently beside the door. Alfred unhooked it from its place and ventured into Matthew's room, making sure to be careful. He didn't want Matthew waking up, seeing him, then accusing him of being a weirdo/creep/stalker. No, he actually wanted Matthew to think the opposite...

Carefully, he lifted the lantern over the bed. His object of affections was laying there among strewn sheets, seeming to glow underneath the warmth of the lantern.

From what he could see, Matthew had changed; he wasn't wearing the uniform anymore. Where had he gotten the clothes?

Alfred shook his head to himself. The lantern swayed slightly, a drop of oil sliding over the edge and landing on Matthew's cheek.

His eyes shot open at the sudden pain. Alfred yelped, nearly dropping the lamp in the process. He gingerly set it down on the side table and hurried to clean off Matthew's cheek. "Oh god, Mattie- I'm so sorry!" He pulled his sleeve over his fingers and rubbed at the other boy's face.

"Alfred..." Indigo orbs stared up at him, looking more unamused than in pain. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Making it stop hurting!" Alfred exclaimed. He withdrew his arm though, feeling sheepish.

"No, I meant, what are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to visit you."

"Why aren't you with the others?"

"...They're telling ghost stories." Alfred pouted, sitting on the cot beside Matthew's legs. "And I don't like ghost stories." He tried to stop rambling, but the words kept tumbling out, "They scare me. I used to get nightmares, but Mom would let me sleep in her bed. Then they'd go away."

In the poor light, he couldn't tell whether Matthew was smiling. "Really, now?" There was a soft edge of his voice. Alfred felt his heart flutter. "Are you implying that you want to sleep with me?"

Alfred felt his cheeks burn at the double entendre. "Maybe... Yeah."

Matthew snorted. "I figured." There was rustling as he snuggled back into his blanket. "Night, Alfred."

"Wait!" Alfred said, feeling confused. "Can I sleep here, then?"

"Um, no." Matthew's answer was short and clipped. "You kidnapped me, forced me into indecent clothing, and now you're trying to sleep with me. No. Go away."

"I don't want to sleep with you _like that_!" Alfred complained. "I just want to lie here with you so I can protect you from the ghosts!"

Matthew mulled over this for a moment. "You can go protect Feliciano," he said decisively, turning on his other side.

"But-!" Alfred frowned at the other boy's back. "I'm not leaving, Mattie." He laid down on the cot, pressing himself against Matthew's back to create more space. "Sweet dreams now."

"Stop that, your crotch is digging into my back. _Merde..._" Matthew kept muttering more things like "Why me?" while Alfred simply stayed put, arms locking tightly around him.

Once he realized that there was no getting rid of the pirate, he sighed and stopped struggling. They laid like that, intertwined sort of awkwardly. Matthew could feel Alfred's hot breath against the skin of his neck everytime he exhaled.

Something creaked from above - no doubt their drunken crew mates - and Alfred's arms twitched. There was a crash and Alfred full-out squealed in terror, molding himself tighter into Matthew's smaller form.

"Can't...breathe..." Matthew wheezed.

"Sorry, Mattie," Alfred mumbled, relinquishing his hold slightly. Just slightly.

Matthew sighed for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. He adjusted himself onto his back, taking Alfred's arm and dragging it across his waist. Then he laid the other blond's head on his chest and stroked his hair comfortingly. "No ghosts," he said, figuring that this was the least he could do for the man who saved his life.

"Promise?" Alfred squeaked, sounding very much like a little boy.

Chuckling, Matthew nodded. "I promise."

**. . .**

When Matthew woke up, there was a huge gaping hole on the wall adjacent to his bed. Literally. He also noticed how the ship was tilted heavily towards the right - and that's when it hit him like a cannonball: _They were sinking._

He attempted to jump up, but the weight around his waist(in other words: Alfred) anchored him back down to the bed. When Matthew shrieked, "Wake up Alfred oh my god we're sinking oh my god!" Alfred slurred back, "Five more minutes."

Finally, after yelling, "Arthur's cooking breakfast!" he managed to startle him awake. By then, Matthew had slid out of the bed and was trying to reach the stairs. There was a cannonball lodged into the floorboards of the cabin; it reminded Matthew of how close he'd come to being smashed. Then he shook that morbid thought off, determined to make it out alive.

He almost slipped, had Alfred not appeared behind him and steadied him. "We have to get the others!" the pirate urged, suddenly the one who was more awake. "Come on!" His eyes were filled with determination.

Matthew was struck with awe as he stumbled along.

When they reached the upper deck, everything was a mess. The ship was now nearing a forty-five degree angle, and if they didn't get off soon, they would drown.

And as if the sinking problem wasn't enough, there was an enemy ship anchored right beside them. Evidently, its crew had swung over onto the _HMS Vulture._ Around them, chaos reigned. Matthew spotted Arthur slamming the hilt of his blade into an eye-patched man's other eye.

Looks like that one would be blind...

The others weren't faring as good. Drinking had left them with a rather nasty headache and they struggled to keep balance.

"The rowboats!" Alfred shouted over the yelling and cursing. "They're our only chance of surviving." Because they definitely weren't going to win this fight...

Alfred gripped Matthew's hand tighter and started heading for the rowboats. Matthew accidentally bumped a man forward and into the blade of Lars's sword. The Dutchman shot him a tired, yet grateful smile as he withdrew the blade, crimson gleaming on its side. He sheathed the blade and joined them, realizing the plan.

"Arthur! Francis!" Alfred waved them over. "We have to get off the ship, _now_!"

Gilbert was cackling madly as he stabbed uncouthly at his opponent. He looked like he was still drunk. "Take th't, ya' _arschloch_!" He finally landed a slice on the pirate's neck and he watched with great interest as the other sank to their knees. He was grabbed by Ludwig, who was half-carrying Feliciano with his other arm. Lovino and Antonio followed suit.

Alfred shoved the others onto the rowboat none-too-gently before cutting the ropes. There was a loud splash and some yells as the rowboat crashed down. Alfred was struck across the chest almost immediately afterwards. He was sent vaulting over the side, landing into the frigid water ungracefully. Two pairs of hands found his shoulders and he was pulled onto the boat.

"Thanks...owe you one..." he gasped in between breaths. Ludwig slapped his back a few times.

The Italian brothers had the oars and were distancing the rowboat from the ship. They all watched in contempt as the _HMS Vulture_ finally began its descent underwater.

The enemy ship had apparently raised anchor and was starting to sail away as well. They seemed to have no interest in chasing them, and Alfred was questioning the point of the seemingly-useless raid when he realized...

"Where's Matthew?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm sorry for the late chapter. Please don't throw tomatoes at me. =3=;;


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